


Pat & Brian move to the suburbs

by spacegirl



Category: Polygon/McElroy Vlogs & Podcasts RPF
Genre: Humor, M/M, Recreational Drugs, Stoned!Brian, Suburbia, angry!pat, cue it's always sunny intro music, i'm not sure why this happened, rating is for swearing and drugs like there's no hookups here sorry folks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-14 09:19:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19270321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacegirl/pseuds/spacegirl
Summary: “This is going to end up like that ‘It’s Always Sunny’ episode.” Simone laughed when they’d told her their plan to buy a new house outside of the city and just deal with the commute to work.Of course she's right.





	Pat & Brian move to the suburbs

**Author's Note:**

> uhm,,, what? 
> 
> i don't know, i had this idea the other day and then it just happened really suddenly tonight when I got home from work
> 
> ((fish told me about how it's a big deal when americans say cunt so i had to write someone saying it))

“This is going to end up like that ‘It’s Always Sunny’ episode.” Simone laughed when they’d told her their plan to buy a new house outside of the city and just deal with the commute to work.

It was an offer they couldn’t turn down in the end, neither of them expected they’d end up moving to suburbia when they decided they wanted to move in together. They just knew they wanted to find somewhere nice enough that they’d be happy staying there for the next ten, or twenty, or who knows how many years.

  
  
  
  


Pat’s dad had called him months ago, when they were starting to tear their hair out trying to find an apartment somewhere in the city, one that they both liked and could also afford.

Pat’s dad knew this guy, who owed him a favour, like a real big favour apparently. 

This guy had bought out a few lots on a new property development out in Syosset, Long Island. He was planning on renting them out, but he was willing to sell one to the Gills for cheap (like, really cheap (like, are you sure you’re not going insane cheap)) after he’d heard about Pat’s struggles to find a place in the city. 

Pat’s parents even offered to pitch in and help with the cost, then whenever Pat and Brian went on holiday, or if they were away with work, they’d be able to keep an eye on the house for them. The family could even use it as a holiday home kind of thing, Pat’s mom had said,  _ there’s always a broadway show your auntie is desperate to see, but hotels in the city cost a bomb.  _

Pat declined fervently, and said that if there was even a possibility they’d buy the house, they’d be buying it with their own money, so random family members couldn’t show up and treat it like a bed and breakfast every few months.

Pat really resisted the idea altogether because suburbia was never his thing, and he didn’t want to have some guy his dad knows thinking he could swan in whenever or something, just cause he gave Pat the house for much less than the market value. 

Brian privately thought Pat was being kind of ridiculous, and that he’d just spent too long living in the city, with terrible landlords – it was just a family friend who wanted to do something nice for them.

Brian kind of liked the whole idea, settling down outside of the city, being able to make the house their own. 

He couldn’t see many downsides to the whole thing, besides needing to save a deposit, and figure out how the whole mortgage thing works. He remembered Pat saying he took a future homeowners course before he moved out of Maine, Brian was confident they’d be able to figure the whole thing out together anyway.

Pat still wasn’t sold on the idea, every few weeks when he talked to his mom on the phone he’d turn it down, she’d tell him  _ the offer will be there until the house is built and about to be put up for rent, just keep thinking on it Patrick. _

Nothing could convince Pat it was a good idea, nothing at all. Until his dad emailed him a picture that wasn’t just empty land and piles of dirt and half built brick walls, it was a house, a  _ nice _ house. A house that could be his and Brian’s for a really  _ really _ good price. 

Pat gave up on being stubborn and told his dad that they’d love the house, if his friend was still willing to give them a good deal, and suddenly it was all happening. They were moving to the suburbs.

  
  
  
  


 

Pat ducks into the phone room to take the call from Brian. “Hey babe, you still waiting on that delivery?” He’s still feeling guilty for going into work today when most of their furniture is being delivered. 

“Uh, nope, it’s here.” Brian’s voice is nervous, kind of stressed. 

“If it’s too much to deal with don’t worry about setting stuff up ‘til I come home, I’m leaving at four anyway.” 

“Yeah, it’s not that it’s too much to deal with. Or, maybe it is…” Pat can hear a cat purring and pushing its face into the phone, he’s not sure if it’s Zuko or Charlie.

“What’s wrong Bri?”

“It doesn’t  _ fit! _ ” Pat can hear the jingle of the bell on Charlie’s collar as he runs away from Brian’s shout. Pat can’t help but laugh. “It’s not fucking funny Pat! We bought that dumb expensive show home furniture so we wouldn’t have to worry about measuring shit up, and it doesn’t  _ fit _ .” 

“It doesn’t fit like… they couldn’t get the sofa through the hallway to the living room? They’ll be able to take out the big window and get it in.”

“No. Pat. It just doesn’t fit.” Brian’s torn between wanting to shout and just wanting to sob. “It’s like I’m in the living room, and the sofa is in the living room, but the sofa is too long for the living room.” 

“That can’t be right. Did they deliver the right one?” Pat presses a finger to his temple, he’s getting another headache. This whole house has been a headache really, from saving the deposit, to working out a joint mortgage, to getting Charlie and Zuko on good terms, and now this. “Our house has the exact same floor plan as the show home we looked at. We ordered the same sofa that was in the show home. We saw it fit perfectly in that room.” 

“I know that’s what we saw, but I’m telling you what I’m seeing now.” Brian groans in frustration. “The sofa does not fit in the living room.” 

Pat tries to be soothing, tells Brian not to panic and that they’ll work it out together when he gets home. 

Brian just huffs angrily and says he’s going to get baked in the garden and doesn’t care if that snooty bitch next door, Joanne, is looking out the window at him again. 

 

 

 

 

When Pat gets home he can’t believe what he’s seeing. 

“I told you so.” Brian doesn’t even have the decency to try and push the grumpy smugness out of his voice. 

The dining table fills up so much of the dining room that there’s not enough space to pull the chairs out, the bed in their third bedroom fills almost the entire room, so they can’t open the doors of the wardrobe they brought to match it. 

And the sofa doesn’t fit in the living room. It’s just wedged between the two walls, one side lifted off the ground so it will fit. It’s going to leave marks on the fresh paint, Pat guesses it already has.

Pat takes around fifteen seconds to sort through his thoughts before he’s overtaken with seething rage. “They left it like this? They bought this fucking thing into our house and just left it like this? Like this was okay?” 

“Yeah.” Brian shrugs. He’s still a little bit stoned and his lack of enthusiastic anger is getting to Pat. 

“And you didn’t think to say like, “hey, what the fuck?” Or something?” Pat doesn’t mean to raise his voice, but it’s been a long day. 

He left before seven to get to the train, and yeah Brian had to get up to give him a lift, but he got to come home to bed. Pat had to deal with the commute to the office, and then spend all day at work as Brian freaked out to him over text. 

Then he didn’t get home until seven since a train was cancelled, which meant the next train came and was packed, so he spent an hour squashed between two people who were both having loud, inane conversations on the phone. He wanted to rip the phones out of their hands, but it was too crowded to even lift his arms. 

“Don’t make this my fault!” Brian shouts. “Yeah, of course I asked them what the fuck was happening, and if this was the right sofa, and all the brilliant questions you would have asked. They just shrugged and said they just deliver the furniture, they can’t do anything else.”

Pat sighs and tries to maneuver around their dining table to get to the kitchen, he has to press himself flat against the wall and squeeze past the chairs. Brian does the same following him to the kitchen, they look ridiculous. 

Pat grabs some painkillers from the cupboard to try and deal with the headache that feels like might kill him. “I know it’s not your fault. I’m sorry, it’s just a stressful situation to get home to.” He grabs a glass of water and takes the pills. 

“Let’s just smoke weed and cuddle, it’ll fix your headache.” Brian pouts, coming to hug Pat from behind. 

“We can’t exactly cuddle on that sofa Bri.” 

“Lets just watch Netflix on the laptop and cuddle in bed, that’s what we’ve done every night since we’ve been living here anyway.” 

Pat pushes Brian away a little. “That’s only because we’ve been waiting for the furniture to be delivered.” He goes to the stack of paperwork they’ve still got on the countertop from the property developers. “I’m gonna phone them before their office shuts. Try and figure out what happened.” 

Pat squeezes back through the dining room to make the call, Brian heads onto the porch to sit on the bench and finish smoking that joint.

 

 

 

 

He can hear Pat’s phone call inside, it starts off calm and friendly but now, forty minutes later, there’s frustrated, exasperated yells ringing through the house. 

That’s another thing that pisses Brian off about these houses, the walls are so thin it doesn’t matter that they’re detached, he can hear whenever one of their neighbour's kids is having their weekly french horn lesson. And he gets it, he knows it’s all about putting in the hours to learn an instrument, but really he wants to tell the kid to move on, maybe try piano instead. 

He’s just finished smoking and Pat has just started yelling when Joanne sticks her head over the fence.  

“I didn’t know you were that tall.” He giggles a little at his own joke, the weed making everything and anything funny, even the slanted sofa seems kind of hilarious to him now. 

“I’m stood on a chair, my gosh, that stuff you’re smoking is killing your brain.” She tuts at him with a glare – of course she doesn’t understand sarcasm. “Your partner is really yelling in there, it’s little Sarah’s bedtime soon.”

Another thing Brian hates about suburbia – the list is so much longer than he expected – every housewife on the cul-de-sac showed up with some sort of baked treat when they first moved in. Saying shit about how nice it is to know they live in a  _ progressive  _ neighbourhood, and all creepily angling for a gay best friend. For the first two weeks Brian couldn’t make it to the car without one of them hounding him.  _ Let us know if you ever want to come on a girls shopping trip Brian, doesn’t seem like it would be Pat’s thing, but we're sure you’d have fun.  _

Brian looks at his watch. “Yeah the sales office will close soon and he’ll be off the phone, don’t worry about it.” 

Joanne looks horrified at his casual attitude. “Well I do worry about–”

Pat bursts out onto the porch then. 

“Those fuckers Brian! Those greedy capitalist fucking bastards!” 

Joanne gasps, of course. She was only out here hoping this would happen, hoping she’d be well timed enough to find out what the shouting was all about and get some gossip for the other neighbourhood moms. 

“I had to speak to five different people. FIVE! I had to confirm the measurements of our living room, quote the spec number of our house. I didn’t even know what that was, I had to look through all those fucking papers! And eventually, I’m speaking to some guy named _Brad_ and guess what he tells me?” 

Brian shrugs. “No idea.” 

“They make bespoke furniture for the show homes, make everything smaller than normal so that it makes all the rooms look bigger. Helps push up sales. How much fucking smaller was that furniture we saw?” Pat’s gesticulating wildly. Brian kind of loves it when Pat snaps and his energy becomes as frantic as Brian’s usually is. 

“That’s so fucking shady.” Brian sits forward, the anger still not managing to really sink in.

“Yeah. And I’m just supposed to fucking  _ know  _ that they’re bastards who pull shady shit like that. We can’t get a refund since we should have  _ known _ that’s what happens in show homes and we should have asked for the measurements of the product that would be delivered to our house. Honestly Brian, those _cunts_ have-”

Joanne gasps, again. 

“That’s enough boys!” She shouts, before she drops her voice and speaks sternly, like she’s telling off her kids. “I’m not having you living near my family, screaming and shouting such obscenities when my kids could hear them.” 

“Is she stood on a fucking chair looking over here?” Pat turns to ask Brian, ignoring her outburst. Brian only nods and giggles, looking between them. 

Pat turns back to face her then. 

“Your kids won’t hear anything Joanne, they’re addicted to those fucking iPads you gave them so that you didn’t have to parent. They don’t hear you when you’re screaming for them to get in the car quickly so you can go to church on Sunday, they’ve always got headphones in. Always. It’s just me who’s forced to listen to your shrill fucking voice while I’m trying to wake up my boyfriend with the perfect blowjob.” 

She looks horrified and Brian can’t stop laughing now. Pat flicks a glance at him and has to suppress a smile, trying to keep up the anger. Brian knows Pat can get frustrated, but he's not an angry person. Usually if Pat's decided he's going to completely lose it with someone it's because he knows it will be funny, and at least the comedy of it all will make him feel a bit better. 

He extends a hand to Brian, pulls him up off the bench and pulls him inside without turning back to see Joanne's expression, or wait for her to reply.

Brian’s still laughing. “Feel better?”

Pat chuckles and then scrunches his nose. “Eugh, kind of, I’ve wanted a reason to yell at her since we got here three weeks ago.” 

“Lets go to Simone’s, she’ll let us sleep on her pull out." Brian loops his arms around Pat's waist and rests his head on Pat's chest. "I just wanna be back in the city where it’s grimy, and there’s weird people shouting at us on the subway, and there’s good takeout, and it’s not considered late until it’s 3am.” 

  
  
  
  


 

Simone opens her door already cackling, Brian had text her the full story of what happened on the train here. It’s not like he didn’t have enough time. 

Pat’s started to feel guilty about the whole thing now, regretting taking it out on Joanne, no matter how annoying she is. 

“It’s fine Pat, it was just the catharsis you needed.” Simone walks back from the kitchen with a bottle of wine and three glasses. “What are you going to do though? Do you even want to stay there?”

“No.” Brian and Pat say at the same time. 

“Then just rent it out. It’s your house, you can do what you want with it.” She finishes pouring and takes a sip of her wine with a shrug, moving to sit between them. 

“Isn’t that kind of shitty?” Pat asks. 

“Yeah like after that guy sold it to us so cheap? Seems shady if we use it to make money.” Brian’s voice is quiet as he picks up his wine. 

“More fool him.” Simone snorts. “You guys are allowed to be shady, you live in the city, you’re not programmed like these small town losers anymore. No offence Pat, I know it’s your dad’s friend.” 

He laughs. “None taken.”

“If we rented it out we could use the money to get a nicer place here in the city, where there's no hour long commute.” Brian leans around Simone to look at Pat.

Pat drops his head into his hands. “Brian…” 

“I know you’d be a landlord and it goes against all your anarcho-syndicalist beliefs because you’d become part of the bourgeois you’ve sworn to destroy.” Simone laughs at that and Pat elbows her in the ribs without looking up. Brian carries on speaking, “But we could rent it to people who would be even worse neighbours than us, make sure Joanne doesn’t get an easy life, take down the normies from the inside out?”

Simone throws an arm around Pat and shuffles closer. “Or if you want to stay true to your anarcho-syndicalist beliefs, you could keep paying the mortgage on the house and just let me use it for weird Hemingway themed murder mystery parties?”  
  


**Author's Note:**

> this is a real thing they do in show homes sometimes. now you know. don't fall for their shitty tricks.  
> (it's not usually this extreme, but still, it's pretty fucked)
> 
> i'm thekilljoysdied on tumblr if you wanna come dream about more iasip polygon rewrites with me. 
> 
> comments and kudos always mean the world


End file.
